"Men must bleed. They caused the pain of my sisters and I. United we are Goddesses, apart we are queens."
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Made from the souls of a thousand, the daughter of the earth is made to be one of the many rulers in a l...
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At first, the darkness of the unchained summoner's magi swallows me and my cloud of light. Less strain comes at the cost of using light magi, with no consequences besides a slight muscle snag from my ankles to my stomach.
It clears as I reach the edge of the expansion of grey, dipping below the skull's touch and only leaving me with magi that lingers at the tips of my fingers. Here I am weak, but the honored are strong. They are free, stronger than when they reside in the walls of the last natural magi, the last place touched the goddesses themselves.
A watcher sits below, their natural magi lifting from the back in purple and black to the skies that create the divergent. Her mount keeps its head down, a horned serval with a finely spotted coat gliding over muscles.
I hit the ground as a drum bangs against a hide drum, calling to all those who want to watch the fight between an honored and me who both hope to be riding towards the palace by the peak of the first stars.
Maybe one of us will make it or both.
Maybe the honored will kill me. If they do, they'll still be awarded as the hero while my blood stains the sandy ground below.
A giant cauldron in the middle of the camp boils over with an oozing white, smoke billowing up to the magi barrier before disbursing into a cloud of the soft scent of warm rice and jasmine. A meal for after the fight that only those staying with take part in.
I'll be eating a meal from the king before killing him. I'll bite into the fine meats and fresh vegetables, and drink wines that only the royals are allowed to taste before stealing away the only thing that keeps him alive.
The skull.
Children of both honored and the normal run around the grounds, moving a ball made of dried mud with their powers, trying to get it to a goal built from tightly woven vines and sticks that poke from the violet sand. Their mounts are little more than specks on the wrist, waiting to be freed on their tenth anniversary of birth.
Women and men alike paint each other's faces to give thanks to their mother goddess or to mimic their mounts. Their gold and silver flash and shimmer, showcasing how much they stole from the raid on the King's treasury.
Their skin tones range from onyx to sunkissed, all glimmering from the coconut oil smeared about their arms, legs, and faces. They stop, their voices silenced as they catch sight of me marching through the pathway made by dozens of mounts or handmade carts.
"Xeli!" My name feels strange being called like I'm important nevertheless, I find pleasure in it.
A collective of elders sit at a blazing blue flame that paints them azure and runs along wrinkles that smudge their skin. With them is the pinnacle of my attention, a girl who watches me through eyes the color of the sun. Her mount settles farther near the trees, a white crocodile that could kill with a thought.
